


Uncle Teddy

by clgfanfic



Category: War of the Worlds (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-20
Updated: 2013-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-29 23:16:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/692657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Debi adopts an uncle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Uncle Teddy

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Green Floating Weirdness #7 under the pen name Gillian Holt.

_"Something botherin' you, Missy?"_

 

          Derriman paused outside the open barn door and listened.  _There_ , he thought.  _I knew I heard something…_

          He eased inside the shadow dappled structure.  With the rest of the squad off with the colonel, Blackwood, and McCullough, the Special Forces first sergeant was a little jumpy.  _Paranoid_ , he corrected.  But then, who wouldn't be when your current assignment was fighting aliens from another planet.

          He moved silently through the large structure, looking for the source of the sounds that had attracted him.

          _I'll be glad when the Colonel gets all our personnel on-board_ , he thought.  One man left at the Cottage for security was spreading things awfully thin.

          He stopped.  There it was again.  That sound.  But _what_ was it?

          He eased toward the empty stall.

          Sniff.

          He stopped dead in his tracks.  There was no mistaking the source of the disturbance now.

          Debi McCullough.

          Taking a deep breath, Derriman crossed the remaining three steps and looked into the otherwise empty stall.

          Debi sat, her back pressed against one wall, her knees drawn up, her arms wrapped around her legs, crying.

          He cleared her throat and her head snapped up.  She swiped ineffectually at the tears, trying to hide the telling evidence.

          "Are you all right, Missy?" he drawled.

          Debi nodded.  "Fine," she hiccupped.

          "Mmm," he grunted, watching as she stood and dusted off the seat of her jeans.

          "I'm going to brush Solomon," she stated flatly, marching past the soldier and heading for the gelding's stall.  The big chestnut whickered softly as she approached, snuffling her pockets and rubbing his head against her chest.

          "Ohhh," she chided, scratching the horse's face, "you're just a big baby."

          Solomon snorted and shook his head.

          "Guess he doesn't agree," Derriman said.

          Debi glanced over her shoulder, clearly disappointed that the man was still there.  He could see the unshed tears still standing in her eyes.  Walking over, Derriman leaned against the wall, then reached out and slapped the horse's neck affectionately.  "That's what I should be doin'" he drawled.

          "What?" Debi asked automatically.

          "Spendin' my retirement in Kentucky, livin' on a farm with a couple of horses, and a good fishin' hole close by."

          "You like horses?" the teen asked, rubbing at her eyes.

          "Do I _like_ horses?" he asked, the southern drawl deepening.  "Why, Missy, I'll have you know I was born on the back of a horse and weaned with the rest of the foals."

          Debi giggled, a smile forcing itself past her earlier glum expression.  "Really?"

          "Well," he amended, "close to it.  My daddy was a trainer.  He worked on the Kingston Ranch near Louisville, Kentucky.  They bred and trained some of the best Thoroughbreds in the country."

          "Wow," Debi breathed.

          "Yep, he had me bouncing around on the back of a horse before I could walk real good, and that's the honest truth of it."  He gazed across the barn, watching the breeze move past the trees on the Cottage property.  "Horses, fishin' and soldiering, that's about all I was ever good at."

          Debi walked over to the bench where various trays of grooming accessories were lined up.  She leaned against it, not really interested in working on the horse.  "Does your dad still train horses?"

          Derriman shook his head.  The girl's melancholy must he contagious, he thought.  "No, he passed away a long time ago."

          "Oh," Debi said, turning away.

          The sergeant walked over to stand behind the girl.  "Something botherin' you, Missy?"

          Debi shook her head.

          "Funny, I was sure I heard some sniffles earlier."

          She shrugged.

          Taking a mental deep breath, Derriman pressed.  "I've been told I'm a pretty good listener…"

          Debi turned back to face the older sergeant.  Her chin quivered slightly and the first tears spilled over her cheeks.  "I don't want them to go after the aliens," she sniffled.

          "Why?" he prompted, taking a step closer.

          Debi hiccupped, then sobbed, the tears finally breaking free of her fragile control.  "I'm afraid they'll get hurt.  I don't want them to go away."

          Derriman stepped up next to her and hugged an arm around her shoulders.  "You mean you're afraid they might get killed?" he asked, the Kentucky drawl fading.  She nodded against his chest.

          He patted her shoulder and allowed her to cry a little longer.  When it sounded like the first flood was past, he guided Debi over to the stacked bales of hay and sat down with her.

          Fishing into his back pocket, he tugged free a clean handkerchief, handing it over to the grateful girl.

          "Well, now," he began, "you know I'd be lying if I said that there wasn't a chance that someone might get hurt, or killed."  Debi looked up, her blue eyes fearful.  " _But_ , pretty soon now we'll have a lot more soldiers here, and out there with the Colonel and the others, and _then_ it'll be a lot safer."

          Debi sniffed, running the back of her and over her nose.  "Really?"

          Derriman nodded.  "You bet.  Because, ya see, each and every one of us are going to do everything we can to make sure nothing happens to your mother, or Mr. Drake, or Dr. Blackwood."

          "What about Colonel Ironhorse?" she asked.

          A wry smile played across Derriman's face.  "Well, now, that'll depend on what we can get away with.  See, the Colonel, he doesn't like us watchin' out for him.  He thinks it's his job to do that for us, but we do what we can anyway."

          Debi grinned.  "Harrison says he's cranky."

          A low chuckle rumbled out of the First Sergeant.  "I guess that's as good a description as any."  He squeezed her shoulder.  "So, you don't need to spend your time worryin', that's what we're here for."

          "It's still scary," Debi said quietly.

          "I know, sweetheart," he said softly.  "But like my Uncle Teddy told me, fear's not nearly so scary if you share it.  Talk to your mom, tell her what you're feeling.  She'll understand and it'll make it better."

          "I'm glad I shared it with you," Debi admitted, giving he man a tight hug.  "You remind me of my uncle."

          "Oh?"

          "Uh-huh.  Uncle Hank."

          Derriman couldn't stop the wide smile that spread across his face.  "I do, do I?  Well, Missy, that's the first time anyone's compared _me_ to a general."

          Debi stepped back, sizing up the sergeant.  "You sort of look like my teddy bear, Rexford, too."

          Derriman laughed.   It was a good thing none of the others had heard that, he'd never live it down – Sergeant Uncle Teddy…


End file.
